Monday, 27 February 2012

One is the Nazareth of legend. Stunning Ottoman architecture, floating spires, and fantastical churches; standing; watching; outliving us all. Setting the stage day after day for religious pilgrims and tourists.

Cobbled, winding pedestrian roads leading through a quaint old market.Sunshine dappling through huddled, hunched buildings. Carpentry workshops and little shops carved into ruins and coffee shops peeking out from beneath old Roman staircases.

This other Nazareth weeps at the lack of jobs for its frustrated youth. It offers dark corners and alleyways to family feuding, often ending in violence. Poorly lit streets house drunken teenagers with little to do.

There are two Nazareths.

This, the impression of an outsider, can only be as accurate as the small window of time in which it was experienced.

Go. See its beauty and its hardship. Come back and tell me how many Nazareths you see.

Carpentry dates way back in Nazareth. Beautiful carvings, all hand made

In the tiny carpentry shop

Inside the famous White Mosque (it's only white on the outside)

The awesomest spice shop ever, 3 small rooms, dried fruits, infinite spices and all the machinery next door

At the spice shop

The White Mosque indoor courtyard

In the courtyard of the White Mosque

Roman ruins inside a coffee shop

Entrance to the Church of the Annunciation

Church of the Annunciation - the massive outdoor area

Church of the Annunciation - the entrance to the church

Church of the Annunciation - inside

Church of the Annunciation - inside

Recently uncovered ruins

In the old market

In the old market

A view of Nazareth - many steps were climbed to bring you this picture

Sunday, 19 February 2012

A Nabulsi woman of my age is living a life very different from my own. 9 times out of 10 she is married with at least three children. A house to clean, a husband to please, children to raise and, oftentimes, a job to help make ends meet.

She doesn't have the luxury of lazy afternoons sipping coffee while chatting with friends. She's not out shopping for clothes, planning a lunch break at the nearest salad bar.

She's working hard.

Of my good friends is the perfect example of this.

She is 36, with four children under the age of 10. Her husband is currently out of work and she works full time.

So... she wakes up every morning at 5 am to clean the house before getting the kids ready for school. She works a full day for minimal pay. She comes home in the evening and cooks a meal for her five person family as well as her husband's parents, who live downstairs.

She then cleans up dinner which, as any mother knows, is going to be messy if it involves toddlers and babies.

Then the kids have to be cleaned up, helped with their homework and put to bed before she can finally light up her sheesha and put up her feet.

On a good day, she puffs away in peace. On an average day she has to deal with her bored husband who has decided she must now also wear her hijab in the presence of his brothers.

Despite this, she must be one of the loveliest, most cheerful people I know.

And she is not alone. Most of the mothers I have met are of the same ilk.

The mothers we meet in the camps have dealt with the horrors of occupation; the imprisonment of their husbands, sons and brothers, deaths of loved ones and crippling poverty. They have done so with iron in their souls. Still, warmth flows through their touch and compassion colors their eyes, even when dealing with strangers.